


Silver and Bones

by centipatch



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dark Magic, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fantasy, M/M, Necromancy, Nicholas Flamel - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Philosopher's Stone, Vampires, Werewolves, Witchcraft, death talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centipatch/pseuds/centipatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even death isn't an option and life is a longtime punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like Phoenix, Reborn To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> It's a story of Necromancer!Izaya and artificial werewolf!Shizuo, immortality at its finest! It's inspired by some novels and story line of my old fanfiction.

 

_“Live… “_

_“To be able to live is a gift humanity takes for granted.”_

_“So, I have a question for all of you, a question that I know is always there since the beginning.”_

_“It’s a part of us, the primal knowledge that remains unanswered since the era of creation.”_

_“Thus, we keep asking, asking, and asking. It keeps on repeating because humans are never satisfied with one answer. They keep on thirsting for knowledge, but without the awareness of what to do with it. Interesting, isn’t it? I personally think all of you, every human being born in this twisted birdcage called ‘the world’, are really interesting.”_

_“So, my humans, let me be generous to remind you again of that one question you all desire to know the answer of.”_

_“What do you think we all live for? Exactly for what purpose?”_

_“In the end, is it about waiting for the death, expecting our beings to cease from existence?”_

_“If that’s so, then doesn’t that mean death has been our top priority, for every cell, every line of bone, every drop of blood, every layer of skin we have will just reduce to nothingness?”_

_“It’s scary, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah, humanity is always relating death with something fearful, something they desire to avoid at all costs.”_

_“But do we really have a choice?”_

_“And what if I say we have?”_

_“Tell me, if there is a method to live an immortal life, what will you do?”_

_“Yearn for it, try to grasp it, reach out your hands like moths to a flame?”_

_“Interesting, isn’t it? The way all of you do anything to avoid death.”_

_“But, no, I’m not here to judge. I’m merely an audience for your struggle, your battle against the death.”_

_“I have lived my life long enough to see the truth, to hear rumors, and sometimes to find things in the borderline between the two.”_

_“My humans, it’s normal that things aren’t exactly like we think it is.”_

_“It’s indeed hard to believe, but please do have faith that the story I’m about to tell you relates to the things I’ve mentioned above.”_

_“It’s about a man who turns into a monster, for becoming one with immortality itself.”_

_“It’s a curse, but is it really?”_

_“Even I don’t know for sure. Like I said before, things aren’t always exactly like we think it is.”_

_“So, be prepared, brace yourselves, for the future lays ahead of us might be tricky.”_

_“For that, I hope the best to each one of you shall your journey turn you into something else besides a ‘human’.”_

_“Who knows, you might be becoming more of a monster than ‘him’.”_

_“Let’s just wait and see, shall we?”_

 ///

 

Sounds of guttural groans, feral screams, and desperate clanks of metal resounded in the meadow, sparking up horror in the birth of dawn. Army of mortals against those of the immortals. Fresh blood poured out as skin torn open with sword and fangs, limbs fell to the ground as the bodies were ripped apart in pure brutality. The insides of stomach came flooding out and figures were no longer recognizable as the predators killed and ate, destroying everything that came their way.

A man, shadowed in a coat blacker than ink, was heading to the edge of the almost ended battle. His hair fluttered slightly by the passing breeze as the black fur that lined every edge of his coat waved along with it in lurid elegance. The grass would make crunching noises that muffled by the war cries whenever his glistening boots tread on it; steps light and relaxed as if the man was walking through the bustling crowd of the city instead of the battlefield.

The end of his coat swept over the ground, following the movements of the confident legs. Hands were shoved inside the pockets as the owner of said coat hummed appreciatively; eyes as red as ruby roamed over the horrible sight with the twinkling of mischief and amusement as if he was watching an orchestra.

“My, my, looks like you have it rough on your end, Commander Joseph.”

The man chirped loud enough for a middle-aged man, clad in black military uniform with medals proudly perched on its front, to notice his presence; expression serious and facial lines accentuated the heavy tension he was feeling.

“So, you’re finally here, Orihara. Not much of a coward, I see.”

The man greeted him with a firm nod; eyebrow twitched slightly as the man named Orihara stared at him in a way a scientist did to his object of the experiment. Said man chuckled lightly; tone light and matched the innocence of a child.

“Ah, it seems I’m not trusted yet, eh? That wounds me, Commander.”

“Just do what you have to do, we don’t have much time.”

Orihara’s lips tugged upward, forming a smirk so sinister it rivaled the predator on its glory. His head tilted slightly in childish mannerism as the cruelty of his next words was as sharp as the edge of a knife.

“It’s _you_ who don’t have that luxury of a time,” He shrugged as if every life, every soul that lost didn’t matter much, “But since I’m here, might as well lend a hand.”

“You’d better be as lethal as what I’ve heard from Shiki, or else your fate won’t be too far off from ours.”

The man huffed silently in annoyance, looking away and fixing his gaze to the unmoving bodies of his men. He didn’t even notice a large raven circled above them before landing graciously on Orihara’s left shoulder.

“Please have no worries, Commander,” he assured; teeth biting the black leather glove which only covered half of his palm as he tried to take it off, revealing slender fingers that were previously hidden beneath. He then took the other glove off and handing them both to his raven which oddly accepted them with its beak. “Once I take a job, I do it professionally.”

He then crouched down to one knee; arms spread open with fingertips touched the grassy ground which was covered with dew. No one but the Commander noticed the grass beneath Orihara slowly froze before lines of silvery white came pouring out from the inside of Orihara’s black furry sleeves like a river flow, down to his fingertips, and spread like a wildfire as it touched the ground. The silver lights continued to travel down the meadow, glistening and sparkling in bizarre serene as they continued to freeze the grass and wildflowers along the way, and when they touched the bodies of the fallen army, something unnatural happened.

Call it a nightmare or a miracle, either way, it was still unbelievable. Torn organs returned to their respective positions, bones cracked and shook violently as they reverted to their original design, bleeding bodies with ripped skin struggled to stand up to their feet—the fallen human army was raised from the death in the span of seconds.

Though their eyes reflected nothing, the army seemed to recognize who their enemies were as they started to attack the vampires without any care. Weapons raised as the battle came back to live and the table had turned.

No matter how many times the vampire army smashed them, they would stand up again to fight like marionettes designed for slaughter, all under one command: victory is absolute. From a distance, shouts of panic could be heard by the puppet master himself whose lips dragged wider into a cruel, unforgiving smile.

                                    “It’s Izaya Orihara’s doing!”

                                                                                                                              “That snake bastard! Filthy piece of shit! Traitor to his own kind!”

                                                                                                            “Pull back, pull back now!”

                                                              “Retreat! It’s no use fighting them!”

“Shall we attack Orihara then?!”

                                                                                                                                         “We can’t even go through his army, it’s impossible!”

                                  “Regroup! We have to regroup!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                     “Scatter, all of you! Go to the forest!”

                                                                                                                        “Go hide for now!”

It was a dramatic change, every shout tasted like victory he just couldn’t help but admiring the view as though it was a flower garden full of roses.

Izaya Orihara was indeed a very sly, but intelligent man. He knew which side he could offer his strength to, all for the sake of survival. With talent as rare as necromancy, he ensured his own fate.

“Congratulations.”

Commander Joseph said with eyes still sparkled with awe and a bit of relief as Izaya slowly stood back to his feet, dusting off his coat in the process.

“Ah, the pleasure’s all mine,” He smiled politely; decided it was a good time to show his business-liked attitude as he took his leather gloves back from the raven still perched on his shoulder, “And thanks for holding onto them, Electra. They’re my favorite pair.”

The raven named Electra tilted her head as Izaya tickled her beak, seemingly understood that the act was an expression of gratitude. Commander Joseph regarded them oddly before shaking his head in resignation.

“They would last, wouldn’t they?”

Izaya shifted his gaze to Commander Joseph who had his back turned on him; fully understood the meaning behind his question as his business smile returned to his face.

“Of course, they’ll still move even if I’m not here, and they’ll also listen to your orders.”

Satisfied with the answer, Commander Joseph nodded firmly. “You have my thanks.”

“Like I said, Commander, the pleasure’s all mine!” He chirped out a bit too cheerfully, and almost snickered at the end of his sentence when a clatter of hoofs, as well as a horse neigh, was suddenly heard.

“Well, it seems like your ride’s here already, Orihara.”

Commander Joseph cocked his head toward the arrival of a headless horse pulling a two-wheeled open carriage with a headless woman acted as the driver. The cart stopped right in front of Izaya, and the woman—the dullahan—hopped off to greet him with sign language. Her black Victorian dress fluttered elegantly with every movement.

[Izaya, done already?]

“Ah, Celty! Always right on time, eh?”

Izaya grinned at the dullahan as he put the leather gloves back on whilst Electra tried so hard to stay in balance on her master’s shoulder; flapping her wings unappreciatively in the process.

[We have to hurry back, a new mission just came in.]

To this, Izaya raised an eyebrow; gaze locked with the black smoke emanated from Celty’s neck where the head was supposed to be. The moment of silence briefly fell upon before Izaya broke it with a knowing sigh. He turned to look at Commander Joseph who rewarded him with nothing but a stern expression.

“Very well, Commander, I guess it’s about time I leave.”

“So it is.”

He reached out his hand which was accepted immediately by said commander; the weight of the rough fingers felt strenuous and uncomfortable to his leathered one.

“I wish you the best of luck.”

Commander Joseph said nothing to that except a firm nod though he knew the words smelled heavy with worst of pray. He only watched in silence as Izaya hopped onto the cart; Electra cawed noisily in his direction and flapped her wings, probably her way of saying goodbye.

With neighs from the headless horse and his clattering of hoofs, the cart departed; circling back to where it came before stepping up to the air. The rest of the army—the still living ones—watched them in awe as they took a turn that headed to the city.

Inside the cart, Izaya found a file that smelled suspiciously of his new mission. So he took it in his palms and began numbing through its pages. He felt the cart creaked as Celty hopped inside and sat on the opposite side, trusting her horse to bring them both to their destination. Izaya watched her in amusement; really, how could she just jump in so languidly with that dress?

She then tried to converse in sign language again, explaining the new mission she just received from the higher ups.

[We’ve finally found a lead regarding the philosopher’s stone!]

“Well, well, isn’t that good news~”

He smirked confidently; crimson eyes glistened with excitement as he read the context of the page.

“Nicholas Flamel’s infamous philosopher’s stone… it’s said to be missing in that ‘incident’, and now the piece of the puzzle has resurfaced.”

Celty snapped her fingers to gain Izaya’s attention back from the papers; arranging words by the fast movements of her hands though Izaya had no problem in catching the meaning.

[Just don’t do anything reckless, okay?]

“You really wound me, Celty.” Izaya chuckled briefly, feigning hurt as Electra struggled to not be pushed by the strong wind. “When have I ever done something so frivolous in my mission?”

Celty’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled deeply.

[Who are you fooling, really?]

“No one, really!”

Izaya made a peace sign with his hand; expression mildly amused as he chuckled again at the disbelieving gesture Celty made.

“And you should just change this cart to something…modern, you know. I feel very old riding this.”      

With that said, Celty’s shoulders shook lightly as she giggled.

[Shinra said I should change Shooter into a motorbike. What do you think?]

The necromancer tapped his chin as he considered his friend’s idea. While the thought of having a headless horse disguised as a motorbike seemed like a joke, he thought it might be entertaining.

“Sure, it sounds better than old carriage!”

A playful jab to his stomach was what he received afterward as Celty giggled again in amusement.

[Oh, shut up. This old carriage is your fastest transportation!]

“Yeah, sure, sure~”

He waved a hand dismissively, faking a tired sigh as Celty continued with her sign language.

[Anyway, what will you do with _him_?]

“Ah, great question!” Izaya hummed and nodded in approval though his playful expression betrayed the serious tension he tried to create. “Since this is so sudden, I haven’t got a clear view of the situation yet. But when it comes to beasts, we have no choice but to capture them forcefully!”

Celty sighed again in surrender whilst Izaya threw her his signature smug smirk.

[Whatever, just don’t die. Maybe a few broken bones, but you’ll heal anyway, so it’s okay.]

“Now I know why you and Shinra are a good match, thank you so much for your caring advice.”

The necromancer narrowed his eyes; putting on betrayed expression at the dullahan who had playful gesture as she formed her next sentence.

[ _He_ really looks dangerous, though. So be careful!]

“I know,” Izaya answered simply, looking down to a portrait of a young, attractive man with shining blond hair; an aggressive scowl was carved in his facial lines. Next to the picture were Japanese characters which read as ‘Shizuo Heiwajima’.

His lips automatically dragged into a smirk full of wild excitement which didn’t go unnoticed by Celty.

_But, he also looks like fun._

 

                                   


	2. Arrival of The Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teleportation is an invitation for misfortune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I guess I should explain it to you that the setting for this fic is in Pseudo-world, and in modern era. Though you might spot some historical things. If you have any question regarding this AU, please feel free to drop it in the comment box.
> 
> (And, damn does Hans Zimmer's playlist helps a lot in creating the mood)

 

There were a few things about Izaya Orihara that you should know. First was about his identity. If you guessed he was not human, then you were on the right track. His form might resemble that of a human being, but inside he was the same creature as the one that had slaughtered Commander Joseph’s army, in another word, _vampire_.

He mingled and blended with humanity with many of his masks in the world where society divided into two sides. These sides stood back to back, completing each other like the surfaces of a coin. First was humanity with their entire normalcy, living their lives in complete ignorance of a greater force that surrounded them. Second was humanity with complete awareness of it and the talent to _tame_ it.

This force took a lot of shapes and names, but some of you were more familiar with the name ‘magic’, and just like everything that existed, it also had two sides—light and dark, white and black, or whatever you might call it.  In its long history, it had given birth to many legends that we never took a serious note of. But, that was a story for another time.

In short, the humans that were born with the natural talent of doing things with the help of this force were called ‘the philosophers’, or better yet, ‘wizards’. Their number was big enough to form something of a brotherhood—secret organization called ‘The Order of Merlin’ that controlled things in the background, putting everything in order. To them, the anomaly was a weed that needed to be plucked, and that weed took in the form of bewitching creatures besides humanity—a monster, or so they were called. To them, Izaya was that _monster_.

But, he survived by making a good use of his rare, natural talent. Yeah, even amongst the wizardry, necromancy was the rarest jewel—a form of dark magic that was well-respected. Being a creature of high intelligence, Izaya knew this really well. Thus, he offered his talent to the Order of Merlin in exchange for his own ensured survival, that and a bit of money. He was doing well though the shackles were very much of a hassle.

The second thing you had to know about him was that, as a vampire, Izaya was very much able to control his blood thirst. He was also able to eat human’s food though he could live without it. Then again, eating what human eats was necessary however tasteless it would be for the sake of keeping his identity a secret.

Third, he lived with Celty and Shinra, with the addition of Electra and Shooter, in an old house of his hidden up the hill, but that was barely important. Fourth, Izaya Orihara loved humans. He loved observing them in their natural habitat, and would find himself either climbing the tree near his house to watch the sleepless city he lived in or strolling around the busy streets just to chat some humans up.

He loved to watch their behaviors, reactions, and expressions, especially in a desperate situation. For him, it was entertaining and amusing, and Izaya found it very hard to control the urge of pushing them to the limit just to see what humanity would do. But, the tight leash the Order of Merlin was putting him on had successfully prevented him from doing something extreme.

Fifth, he had a large raven as his familiar named Electra. She was an intelligent bird and proved to be a great assistant much to Izaya’s pleasure. From the moment he found her in the yard in front of his house, wounded but still tried to bite his fingers off, Izaya immediately took a liking to her and they were inseparable since.

Sixth, however much Izaya loved adrenaline rushed to his system, he had never been a fan of teleportation. Thus, he immediately pulled Electra into a hug and braced himself for what was coming as Celty threw the _keystone_ to the surface of a lake that was located at the outskirt. Keystone was a sea-colored gemstone that was used as teleportation for philosophers; just put it on the surface of things with a high percentage of transparency and concentrated your mind on the destination, that way you would be able to go through it and arrived exactly at the place you were thinking of.

It was convenient, but the process of teleportation was far from comfort. So when Shooter took a sharp fall, he knew a headache was about to come. The water splashed as they crashed to its surface, and Izaya immediately felt the familiar sensation of his body being pulled in all directions and all he could see was a paralyzing pattern of colors before finding himself out of the swimming pool located in the town he lived in; only realized it was still nighttime when he stole a glance at the moon that was perched in the plain, black sky.

Celty was shaking with silent laughter—probably enjoying his mask crumbled into mortified expression—and Izaya could feel his lips forming half smirk, half grimace whilst letting go of Electra who immediately flew to the top of his head. The familiar loud, booming voice from the entrance was the only thing that stopped him from wording out something cynical.

“My darling, Celty~!! Finally, you’re here! I’m almost dying waiting for your elegant advent!!”

A glasses-wearing brunet approached them with open arms and silly, dreamy expression on his face; white lab coat was waving eagerly behind as the owner fastened his pace to the cart.

[Then just die, Shinra.]

Celty greeted him back with practiced movements; black smoke swirled freely in hidden amusement as she watched Shinra Kishitani’s face contorted into something between surprised look and adoration.

A few whiny complaints spluttered out from his lips like a bomb and Izaya was very tempted to drown Shinra in the pool.

“Celty, even your cruel words could make me feel so loved! You really are the only one for me, and even tonight, when I looked at the moon, your name was the only thing I could think of! Oh, no, I think I’m ill—feverish from the so-called love sickness. Celty, do you mind spending your eternity taking care of my well-being?”

Shinra brought his hands to his chest in dramatic motion; eyes closed in odd satisfaction and lips tugging into a smile full of hope. Seeing this, Izaya snorted and couldn’t hold back an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah, could you confess your undying love in another day, Shinra? I’m afraid you have something prepared for me, or so Celty said.”

Izaya had a coy look plastered on as he dipped every syllable in a cup of mockery; head tilted slightly as his elbow propped on the edge of the black cart. Though dumbfounded at first, Shinra immediately cracked an automatic smile.

“Ah, right, Orihara-kun! Pardon my forgetfulness, although it’s normal when you’re in front of a beautiful creature as mesmerizing as Celty!”

The necromancer watched as his friend turned around and walked back to where he was coming from; taking a white attaché case that was previously leaning on the wall near the entrance door. Shinra returned with the goofy smile still glued to his face; intentionally walking to where Celty was instead of Izaya.

With the help of the love of his life, Shinra hopped in the cart, taking Celty’s place as the dullahan returned to the driver’s seat. She then placed silver badge—the one you would get when you worked for the Order of Merlin—on the cart, just beside her waist; it automatically glued to the wood-liked material and made them invisible to the humans without the natural talent to do magic—‘the unsage’, or so philosophers used to call them.

“Everything you need is in there! So you don’t need to worry about being underprepared.”

Shinra chirped out his reassurance as Izaya regarded him with an unreadable expression.

The necromancer’s hands slowly unlocked the case and opened it to reveal a set of weapons. The corner of his lips curved upward into an arrogant smirk as he pocketed the things that might be useful inside his coat. At that moment, Electra decided to come down from Izaya’s head and landed next to her master; stealing a judging gaze to the contain of the said case.

“You have my thanks, Shinra.”

“You’re very welcome!” Said bespectacled man who sat across from him with a cheerful laughter.

In silent, Celty threw another keystone to the pool before urging Shooter to go for a dive. Izaya situated his body for the upcoming impact as Electra clawed his hoodie tightly. Just like before, Shooter ran and brought them under the water in shocking speed before getting them out almost immediately from the river in a certain protected forest.

Izaya thought it was the end of the unpleasant part but Shooter proved him wrong as that headless horse accidentally took a really sharp turn and dropped both Izaya and Shinra from mid-air. Shinra fell back to the river with a loud splashing whilst Izaya landed at the riverside haughtily like a feline despite the numbness his body was suffering from.

Celty’s shadow caught Shinra’s leg and lifted the bespectacled man up before he got lost in the flow, then threw him beside Izaya who refused to break his friend’s fall. Meanwhile, Electra drifted toward Shooter as soon as said horse and Celty landed oh so nonchalantly to spew some angry croaks.

Celty hurriedly approached them, forming apologetic words with his flustered sign language and earning a dismissal wave hand from Izaya after the necromancer threw a disgusted look at Shinra who was busy emptying his stomach at the riverside.

[S-so, how do we find him here?]

Celty asked hesitantly whilst occasionally rubbed Shinra’s bare back in a soothing pattern.

The bespectacled brunet’s clothes were drenched and he was forced to take them off by the worried Celty, leaving him half-naked with soaked baggy pants.

Izaya let the silence fall briefly before answering Celty with a question of his, “You said before that Order of Merlin has sent some philosophers to corner _him_ just when you were about to pick me up, right?”

[What about it?]

“Then, that means there was—or at least, _is_ —battle in here, no?”

A twisted smile crept its way into Izaya’s face as wild excitement danced freely in crimson orbs. Celty stared at him silently as her shadow swirled in confusion.

“I will need a guide,” the necromancer added as he took his leather gloves off and threw them into the cart. He then walked to the dried part of the riverside before sitting cross-legged on it; both hands were on top of his thighs as the necromancer slowly closed his eyes.

At first, there was nothing happened and Celty was about to go to Izaya when the silver light suddenly flowed out from said necromancer’s body, surrounding his sides like a halo. If Celty took a closer look, the halo was formed by thousands of silver strings that fluttered lazily as though there was a passing breeze that moved them. The longer she kept her eyes on him, the brighter the light became, and just like before, the ground beneath Izaya slowly covered with ice as if the sudden winter came to that spot only.

Not long after, transparent figures were popping out from every direction like a group of moths attracted to a bright flame.

“Wandering spirits…” Shinra whispered as his eyes gleamed with admiration, making Celty turn to him briefly before continuing to watch Izaya again.

They were almost translucent, enveloped in dim blue light, glistening like gemstones under the sun. People with different kind of attires, eras, and reasons of death were gathering in this particular spot—Celty observed them with fear and awe as each one of the spirits showed no emotion whatsoever, as if the stony expression was permanently carved onto them after they died.

Izaya seemed to be concentrating hard as the number of spirits was significantly increased; it somehow made the temperature drop at that particular area and Shinra started to shiver more, using this as an excuse to scoot closer to Celty.

Though the spirits didn’t open their mouths to talk directly, Izaya could hear their thoughts as clear as day. It was mostly groans of pain or stubborn purrs of ‘help’. Really, summoning spirit was easy, but choosing one to actively converse to was hard since spirits tend to be dominated by the remaining wills before they died.

After minutes of contemplating, Izaya finally dismissed all of the spirits—which disappeared instantly like a dead flame—except for one that stood behind him. The necromancer cracked open his eyelids and got back on his feet, grimacing as he saw his black coat got dirty with dust and soil before turning around to face the spirit he had chosen.

It was a middle-aged man, clad in forest police uniform and probably taller than average. Izaya put a hand on his jutted hips as “Show me” rolled out of his tongue; expression coy with confident smile adorned on it.

Without waiting for another order, the spirit turned into a ball of light and took off to a certain direction, leaving trails of glittering blue dust in the air.

“You guys wait here, and Electra, come with me.” Izaya cocked his head to where the spirit had gone off to, signaling his raven to follow.

Before Shinra and Celty gave their answers, the necromancer had dashed off, crossing the river with inhuman speed to the other side of the forest. He then jumped to the nearest tree branch and decided to continue his trip by parkouring from one tree to another. Adrenaline was slowly filled him, he could feel it, the fun was about to start.

The edge of his coat fluttered angrily behind as his eyes fixated on the path ahead. Every trunk he passed felt like a stair and the gust of the wind that was hitting his face felt like a railing his hand had to grip on. It was not only adrenaline but also the thirst for knowledge—curiosity, that made him thrive forward, he mused.

Without realizing, his lips had dragged wider into a wild, mischievous smirk as his blood pumped by sheer excitement. He continued to parkour to the foothills, following the flash of blue that seemed to know where they were going.

After minutes of jumping around and only listened to the rustling of wind and leaves, a booming, angry growl finally reached his ears. It followed by horrendous buzzing noises and explosions, as well as screams of pain, and his smirk grew wider at the said sign of obliteration. Izaya admitted he had never been this delighted for a fight before. He couldn’t wait to see just what kind of _monster_ he would meet at the end of the path.

But, his elated thoughts had to be disturbed as he ducked down to avoid a man flying his way before crashing into one of the trees, dragging the trunk down with him.

_What the actual—_

The scene that unfolded before him was beyond what he was expecting. Old trees were forcefully pulled out to their roots and seemed to be plugged haphazardly back into the earth, leaving a certain area free of trunks but filled instead by unmoving bodies of exactly 15 philosophers. Blood splattered everywhere, painting the bushes and grass with a sickening red, as limbs were bent unnaturally, forcing the bones to be out of their original shapes.

Some of the areas were stained with charcoal color, with soil a spattering mess and rocks turned into a heap of gravels. The air also smelled thick with blood, smoke, and residue of magic, but Izaya’s brain didn’t give it a second thought as its owner seemed to be transfixed by a particular man who was standing in the middle of the fallen philosophers. Battered shirt and torn black vest, blond hair shining brightly under the moonlight as the man—the _beast_ in front of him was breathing raggedly, either from exhaustion or rage. Izaya just couldn’t take his eyes off of the man whose face was exactly the same as the one in the photograph he had inside the file.

Violence, danger, _monster_ —his thoughts were swirling in foreign ecstasy he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Instead of human’s ones, a pair of wolf ears seated on each side of the man’s head with golden fur lining on every edge of said hearing tools, down to his sharp jawline. The hands that were awkwardly hung on each side were also covered in fur which ended just before the nails—no, scratched that, claws. Claws, long and sharp, with the still dripping blood on each of its tip.

Aside from the ears and claws, everything on him very much seemed like that of a human being. Izaya was so intrigued by the sight; he didn’t even realize he was holding breath as he plopped down to the ground.

At the sound of Izaya landing, the man immediately turned to him. Sharp fangs could be seen clearly as the man let out a warning growl at his arrival.

After letting the numbing silence fall for seconds, Izaya finally regained his composure before uttering his words; tone relaxed as if he only greeted a longtime friend and not an actual angry werewolf, with a hint of purring at the end of the sentence.

“So, you’re Shizuo Heiwajima, the holder of the philosopher’s stone. My, what a strength~”

Shizuo growled lowly again before sniffing the air; eyebrows creased as his scowl grew prominent. His respond to what Izaya said earlier did manage to surprise the necromancer, though.

“I don’t like you.”

At that, Izaya’s already arrogant smirk grew into something more maniacal. His crimson orbs sparkled with insane joy, challenging Shizuo’s mocha brown ones in a fiery gaze.

“Ah, that’s too bad,” he purred; fingers curling as silver strands of light pooled around his fingertips, and when Izaya brought his hands to the front of his chest, the strings had accumulated in the center of his palm, tangling to one another and forming sparkling silver balls that vibrated gently.

He intentionally let the silence hung between them before extracting his next words, rolling out every syllable clearly and firmly.

“And here I thought we could have some fun together.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked the new chapter. Comment and kudos are greatly appreciated, because I'd love to know your opinion regarding this kind of AU!


	3. Silver and Gold, My Fair Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Build it up with silver and gold,  
> Silver and gold, silver and gold,  
> Build it up with silver and gold,  
> My fair lady.
> 
> (from "London Bridge is Falling Down")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to update. I was... being side-tracked, which is not a new thing.  
> Also, though I've already put up Explicit sign, it won't hurt to give a little warning for those who can't stand violence: There's a bit of gory scene in this chapter.

Izaya Orihara claimed to love humans. It didn’t necessarily mean as food, he just loved observing them for they were such a fascinating species. Their mind was such a complex of self-righteousness that if you were to give a little push, maybe a little twist of words, they would act out upon emotions and justified their doings afterward.

He loved how they could turn from a simple-minded being to a complicated bundle of emotions in just the blink of an eye. He loved to predict their minds and reactions since humanity could be both predictable and unpredictable, and would accept any result no matter how ugly it was. He loved how they could love and hate. Sometimes, their hatred came from love, but sometimes, there was the kind of love that born from the hatred that ran too deep.

The capability humans had to keep these two strongest emotions so that they could co-exist, mingle together, and create both chaos and order was truly magnificent, Izaya mused. He had lived for ages and had seen many forms of affections, including the twisted one. But, if he had to give one word to describe all of it, then it would be ‘selfish’. Yes, the love humans had was a selfish one. They might say they didn’t need anything in return, but they were always hoping the target of their affection would return their feelings. In the end, they just did it for self-satisfaction. It was so very typical, yet they still basked themselves with the sugary belief that their act of love didn’t have anything to do with their ego.

If there was a selfless love out there, then it would be Izaya’s, or so he proclaimed. It didn’t matter if the humans he loved loved him back or not, Izaya would still love them all the same—each and every one of them out there. He loved them, no matter what kind of people they were and no matter how they viewed him. He couldn’t just choose one human to love more than the others since it wouldn’t be fair. It was the nature of his love, selfless and unilateral. Izaya Orihara loved humanity and all its traits, and he was very confident that nothing could steal his attention away from his beloved humans. Except, that night, he was proven wrong.

For once, Izaya Orihara who claimed to love humans didn’t think of finishing his mission immediately and going home to observe his favorite toys, nor did he think the heavily injured philosophers that were desperate enough to fight were amusing since his mind was currently occupied with a certain man—a _monster_ that was the embodiment of violence.

Shizuo Heiwajima, the beast he just met was able to make him momentarily forget about the humans he loved.

And for that, Izaya _despised_ him.

His love, as well as his attention, was meant for humans and not for _monsters_. So, how could—no, how _dare_ this monster make him unable to look away, unable to think of anything besides the possibility of what would happen if that strength of _his_ coming face to face with his body?

Ah, Izaya sure hated monsters, despite being one himself.

Everything came down just like Newton’s third law: ‘for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’; with Shizuo growling warningly and Izaya returning the favor by flashing a smirk that spoke of wordless taunt. The fury was clearly visible in the blond’s posture as a line of teeth as well as a pair of menacing fangs were bare for the necromancer to see in the form of aggressive snarl. Hands were balled into a tight fist, drawing the white over the tensed knuckles. Shizuo’s shoulders hunched slightly as his angry gaze took in the cruelty of the crimson orbs. Izaya really wanted to laugh as he realized the monster was trying to fight every current of anger that coursed through his blood.

 _A monster shouldn’t act like human_.

Izaya would not allow that to happen. As much as it was laughable, the thought still didn’t sit well with him; it gave his chest a weird, uncomfortable feeling like being pressed against something hard which was unfamiliar to him, so he associated it with disgust. Yes, he must be disgusted. Hence, he really wanted to point that out by letting out a dry cackle; the sound came out in a high pitch, higher than he intended. A cackle so aggressive it matched the menace of Shizuo’s snarl. It was a sign, a sign of _defiance_ which negated Shizuo’s final warning.

So, it wasn’t really a surprise when he saw Shizuo kicking his left foot to the ground with so much force it left a gaping hole when the blond took off on a quick dash at him. The edge of Izaya’s lips immediately pulled wider into a maniacal grin at the sight of the incoming danger. His heart was thundering against his ribcage, pumping blood, as the self-defense instinct burned his mind, trying hard to reduce his tower of pride into ashes and hissing ‘escape’ to the brain. Despite the war happening inside, Izaya stayed still; his posture was steady but also ready as if he was welcoming a friend into a hug rather than trying to take down a wild beast.

Every second was important; Izaya couldn’t afford to make a mistake from the start, or else the victory would run away from his sight. So, when Shizuo’s punch was about to fly to his face, Izaya brought the two silver spheres together and created an explosion of blinding, pure white. The loud screeching noise like nails scraping on a blackboard combined with the angry light managed to seal Shizuo’s senses off momentarily, giving Izaya enough time to draw out a silver switchblade from his coat pocket while having his eyes closed. He mentally thanked Shinra for preparing this on such a short notice even though his friend’s actual motive was to impress Celty. He could feel it, the second his fingers touched the handle and experienced the weight of the knife as he swung it, that the compatibility was just perfect. The design and texture of the handle was modified so that it was easier to grip on. He really had to thank Shinra after all, though it had to wait after he successfully ended his mission.

When the light died down, and he saw the brute still paralyzed from the explosion, Izaya wasted no time to swing it at him; the sharp edge was grazing the sun-kissed skin, tearing along the dusty white fabric and showing a line of an angry red where blood started to ooze from it. The attack seemed to make Shizuo snap out of it; he took a step back and looked so confused at first. That until their eyes met again; a pair of shocked mocha colored orbs pulled toward the ruthless crimson that filled with something akin to mad excitement. The cruel grin was showing itself on the necromancer’s face as guttural growl escaped Shizuo’s lips. It almost felt like Izaya was high on adrenaline, but indeed, he was feeling really good at the moment. The sensation of Shizuo’s flesh meeting with his switchblade—the idea that he had marked the monster was oddly satisfying.

A punch flew over at his direction again which Izaya had no problem dodging it. But then, Shizuo stayed still with his gaze casted downward and for a moment there, Izaya thought the beast wanted to get the jump on him by a surprise attack. That was until golden threads were coming out from Shizuo’s left chest where his heart resided.

By intuition, Izaya put some distance between them immediately. By intuition, Izaya knew the new form of danger was about to come. By intuition, he knew he was _craving_ for it. Shizuo’s whole body was slightly trembling—either it from anger or from suppressing his power Izaya wasn’t sure which one—as thousands of golden strings kept pouring out and circling over his figure, little by little swallowing him whole.

In the span of seconds, the monster had turned into a luminous cocoon; the golden brightness was touching the surrounding darkness so gently, a contrast to what was about to come. Izaya didn’t even have time to (mockingly) compare it with butterfly metamorphosis as the size of the said cocoon grew bigger and bigger while vibrating gently like Izaya’s silver spheres earlier. Right at the moment, strategies and possible outcomes were lining up inside the necromancer’s head. He probably could capture the monster while he was in that state, but the lack of knowledge of how much brute force and the fighting pattern Shizuo Heiwajima had was bugging him. It was very much like an amateur dealing with a time bomb. Comparison aside, he was kind of at a disadvantage if he were to make a move right then. So, he had to do what his best at doing: _observing_ , at least until he got a _pattern_.

The weight of his switchblade felt heavy on his pocket coat; his fingers continuously curled into a fist, itching to take the weapons out. Hence, he just shoved both hands inside his pockets and gripped tightly at the handles to ease his nerves a bit. He watched the golden cocoon of doom arose to a certain height that was certainly taller than him or the original, half-human form of Shizuo Heiwajima. His lips pressed into a thin line, one of the edges curled a bit with a strain in it. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of his face and fell to the declivity of his black hood.

He was actually anxiously waiting for something bizarre to happen, but when it _did_ happen, his reaction was too slow as the crack soon appeared on the surface of the cocoon, followed by an even bigger cracks and it spread out so fast like a broken glass. Izaya intended to put more distance when the explosion happened. Orange dipped light broke out, no sound came out. It was just pure brightness, a mute outburst, but that much was enough to distract Izaya momentarily. He was still shielding his eyes when a big shadowy figure was running (potentially with four legs) toward him and when he did catch a glimpse of it, he didn’t have a chance to run. The fangs pierced through his layer of clothes and into his flesh so deep it immediately broke his ribs with a loud _crack_. Then he felt his body was being shook harshly (more flesh ripped, more blood splashed, and ribs as well as internal organs, saved for his heart, crushed until the remaining pieces scattered somewhere inside his body) before being thrown almost one kilometer away; his back crushing the trees along the way to the foothills.

The abrupt stop of his harsh flight followed soon after with a loud _bam_ and a cloud of dust covering the area. He coughed, and coughed, and found out that more blood kept pouring out from his throat. Not to mention the intense nausea that attacked him mercilessly as a result of the impact he had. Grimacing slightly, he tried to move his limbs and sit straight but to no avail. Izaya let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned his bleeding head to the big cracks of the rock behind him. Hiss of pain and discomfort escaped his lips between the ragged breathing; Izaya completely gave up on trying to move and left his body to his natural fast-regeneration ability, deciding to take a short break before the beast came to find him. As he dazed out on his blurry sight, an odd amusement tingled his mind and triggered rough chuckle to form itself.

 _Heh, I can’t believe he did this much damage to_ this _body. He really_ is _a monster, what a terrifying strength… yet, so interesting._

There was a buzzing inside his ears as the crack in the back of his skull started to close by itself, but even with the noise he could still faintly hear a long howl the monster unleashed. It was a gamble, he mused, a matter of racing against the time. If Shizuo found him with his body in the middle of healing process like this, then that would be his doom. Izaya loved to flirt with danger and sometime, even death itself being the necromancer he was, but he still thought that night he had taken the game to a whole new level. A combination of half smile, half smirk showed itself on his face as he decided to close his eyes to concentrate on his hearing sense instead. Surrendering himself in total darkness behind his lids, Izaya listened to the _pop_ and _crack_ sounds that kept echoing as his body forced the cells to regenerate faster so the wounds and fatal injuries could leave with no trace at all.

Minutes passed by with what felt like hours and his body was almost completely healed. But at the exact same time, the _monster_ had to show up like he was an invited guest who came late to the tea party. The low growl and the exhibition of extraordinarily sharp fangs, as well as a magnificent golden fur which looked like it glistened in all its glory as the moonlight cast down on its figure, came as a fair warning that the fight was far from over—a bad omen that reeked so much of _death_.

And all Izaya did was smirk, that reeked so much of both malice and madness.

“Welcome back, _Master_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little note regarding the last line to avoid confusion:  
> "Welcome back, master" could be translated as "Okaerinasai, goshujin-sama" in Japanese. While 'Shujin' could mean 'husband', in another situation it means 'master'. This type of line could often be found in maid cafe where the worker (girls wearing maid outfit) would use it to greet returning customers (typically all males). Hence, Izaya used it, as a mean to be sounded mocking and sarcastic.


	4. Bone Conductor, Anger Operator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bridge is formed, from silver and gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a rather long chapter to make up for the long wait. Thank you for being patient.

Just in case you want to know what song I used as my muse to write this chapter: [Wolves Without Teeth -Of Monsters and Men](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAI5GSyXMjA) 

* * *

 

_“Do you know what vampire eats?”_

Izaya once asked this to one of the girls he manipulated back then. She then answered with a bit of hesitation laced in the words, _“Umm, it’s blood… I think.”_ At that time, Izaya had to hold back from snorting. Instead, he masked his amusement with a sugar-coated smile that could pass as gentle to anyone that didn’t know his true nature. It was so typical, he mused, an answer that was so innocent, affected by many published supernatural-themed books that could be easily purchased in local bookstores. Izaya didn’t blame her, of course, and neither had he blamed the authors that had written such stories because after all people liked to romanticized legends and myths from time to time. The truth was she wasn’t completely wrong but wasn’t right either.

Izaya remembered the curious look the girl gave him as she waited for the revelation, and of course, with his character being the way it was Izaya refused to answer with straight honesty. Crimson gaze bore onto the girl’s feminine features; pastel colored dress with circles of pink, blue, and yellow smeared on it in random pattern with a pink ribbon tied just below the breasts which revealed slender waistline, the girl had applied thin makeup to look more natural but the grace of it still could be seen combined with lovely waves of caramel-colored hair that she intentionally let down to her waist level. _“Well then, how do you feel about me?”_ He asked again, trying to give away the answer with another question; Izaya kept his tone in serious level with a little hint of curiosity to make the fake sincerity easily twist into a real one. Being caught off guard by the question, the girl blushed and hurriedly averted her gaze; cheeks tinted with a matching pink just like her dress and ribbon. The smirk unfolded as his eyes captured that common reaction, shy gestures and stutter made it so _easy_ to look at what was inside her heart. Because after all, that was the answer, _heart_. _Vampire_ ate human’s _heart_ , representing a demon crawling under the skin.

It could be right or even incorrect altogether, at least for Izaya, that was just a metaphorical version of the answer.

 

“Welcome back, _Master_.”

The words rolled out easily, honey-dipped taunt poured out like a blood from a fresh wound. At this point, he wasn’t even sure the beast still understood human languages, but the taunting habit had been carved too deeply onto his bones to the point he chirped it out in autopilot rather than picked the option out of his own free will as soon as the light footsteps, or rather, paw steps stopped just a few meters ahead. The beast glowered venomously at him; honey-brown eyes were anything but friendly with pupils constricted to vertical slits. Its size was big, obviously bigger than an ordinary wolf and from the way it was, Izaya thought it was even bigger than a liger. Even when it was standing with its four legs, the height was a bit taller than an adult human. As it looked down to where Izaya was still sitting at, it let out a soft growl but still audible enough for the necromancer; its eyes were staring directly at those challenging crimson orbs to show dominance, body posture elevated, tail pointed straight in the air, and lips tightened to expose threatening teeth in the form of a snarl. A gust of wind passed by, caressing the line of silky golden fur into tiny, dancing waves, giving off a vibe of false serenity.

“You’ve ruined one of my favorite coats, how cruel.”

The beast continued its approach as if it had never halted before; with each step, Izaya’s grin grew wider and the beast’s annoyance sprung up higher. He let out a chuckle that was more like a choked gasp, and soon it turned into a mania of laughter; the cutting edge of his laugh echoed like fire, burning the biting cold of the wind and the freezing dirt underneath him. He craned his neck a bit while he gazed at the incoming danger; eyes caught the beast’s gaze fell to his own thundering pulse, pumped by adrenaline-tainted anticipation. It didn’t take a fool to know what the prominent danger was after and it was confirmed with the beast lowering his front to the ground level; claws planted firmly into the ground as smoothly as birthday candle into the cake. It was only when the beast leaped off the ground that Izaya’s fingers twitched, stirring the silver strings that were hidden behind rubble to wake. In the span of seconds that the beast almost got to him, rocks, stones, pebbles were flying toward it as if there was a sudden magnetic force activated; the beast was pinned down just a few meters ahead of Izaya and letting out aggressive roars as it tried to break free. It clawed, shook, and even bit to get rid of them but the heap of rocks that were piling up to a shape of something resembling two human figures kept holding it down stubbornly. On their foreheads, the exact same inscription was being engraved by flashes of silver; characters of a foreign language, [אמת]*, bled out like a name given to newborn.

Cutting the angry roar by a chuckle at first, Izaya raised his hand to reveal the silver strings that were attached to his slender, fragile-looking fingers as he waved them a bit; a silver ring glinted ominously on his middle finger. “I supposed this is your first time meeting golems, am I right~? They’re a mixed blessing, obedient but lacking in intelligence department but I take it you couldn’t care less about such information in a situation like this, which of course, I find it to be hilarious since I just want to let you know that _you_ , too, are ironically lacking the same _thing_ as them.” Izaya shrugged, intending to dismiss it as everyday casualness but the sharp edge of his smirk and the cruelty of his crimson gaze had emphasized the bite the mockery brought. “Joking aside, I’m in serious need of _food_ right now. Do you mind?” With a twitch of his finger, the strings jerked all the way to the golems’ side.

_“Do you know what vampire eats?”_

They glowed unnaturally—silver light with a hint of blue—before flowing down graciously from the golems’ heads, shoulders, arms, and waists to encircle themselves on the infuriated wolf. Each end of the threads stopped and linked to the beast’s head. The second they were connected to the skin, the ends flashed out a bright, warm-looking spots of light which looked just like fairy lights on a Christmas tree, greedily consuming electricity. Except, it wasn’t _electricity_ they were tasting.

_“Well then, how do you feel about me?”_

Momentarily closing his eyes, Izaya tilted his head back and inhaled deeply. There was a surge of heat rushing in which tasted so right and so delicious on his tongue; it was the kind of heat which was promising pain, violence, and aggression, yet he engulfed every sensation of it hungrily and greedily, ignoring the dull scorch placed on the tip of his tongue. It was like eating fire but with the taste of the finest meat, neither under nor overly cooked, because after all it was directed to _him_ , the _intense anger_ he was devouring. It was for him and only him. With every heavy swallow his throat worked on, the injuries he had healed faster, both internal and external. It was then when he opened both of his eyes that the crimson hue had shifted to the dangerous glow of scarlet as if the orbs themselves were living flames, born from a spark with soul. It was such a contrast to the dark of his hair and the pale of his skin, an alluring kind of _danger_. He dragged his tongue across his lips in one smooth, almost-sensual swipe and tilted his head to the side to look at the pinned beast, “What a rich flavor, you have my gratitude.”

Whether it was because of the golems holding it down or his provocation, Izaya wasn’t sure but the beast’s whole body trembled in what he assumed was wrath as it hung its head low and it kept growing and retracting its claws as if bracing for something. The philosopher’s stone must be reacting to the beast’s emotion somehow, because it granted him more power; along with the appearance of the golden threads, the beast’s figure was getting bigger started from the shoulders, back, limbs, and to the rest of his frame and Izaya had the feeling this new state wasn’t the last of Shizuo Heiwajima’s metamorphosis. He heard the sound of thunders in the distant, or maybe he just thought there was one because his ears were ringing from the roar of fury as the beast was knocking his golems down. They were immediately back up again but the beast’s strength was now on a different level. Its new form resembled more of a human this time, but with a much bigger and taller build than an ordinary human. Izaya tsked in annoyance at his own train of thoughts; to compare that _thing_ to a human was really revolting. It might have the ability to walk with its two hind legs and the forelegs transformed into something resembled human’s hands. But those were the only things that were different from the first transformation, the rest of the parts were still pretty much fur and sharp claws and _beastly_ looking.

Izaya rose to his feet and dusted off his pants; his lips jutted out into a pout at the sight of holes with different sizes decorated his favorite coat. Before him, the beast roughly shoved each one of his golems aside and, as soon as their eyes met, it let out an ear-breaking growl. He leaped out to one of the trees as the torture-promising claws hit the ground where Izaya was standing second ago, throwing a few of silver switchblades as an attempt to slow the beast down but it didn’t make much difference because they got sent to the ground almost immediately. It was as if they were paper planes hitting a tough wall instead of blades meeting skin, though they did leave scratches. With the new transformation, the beast’s movements became even faster, and in no time it knocked the tree down just like one would do when they shooed bees or mosquitos away. Izaya was almost tripping on one of the branches as he parkoured to another tree because of the shock; he was grateful of the good reflexes he was blessed with or else he would be lying down and fall prey to the monster. It was darker this time that the moon had disappeared behind the clouds and the thunders were passionately shaking the sky above. Meanwhile, the hunter and the hunted fell into monotonous chase of jumping, throwing knives, and knocking off trees. Just as they were getting used to each other’s improved speed, there were rumbling noises coming closer; Izaya’s smirk came out reflexively as the knowledge of what might be the cause appeared on his mind. “About time~”

If one thought that the explosion from two silver spheres earlier would just to distract Shizuo Heiwajima’s attention, then they certainly underestimated Izaya’s cunning nature. The rumbling came from all directions, caging and surrounding them with what seemed to be like a rush of steps belonged to a group of wildebeests. It wasn’t completely off the mark since dozens of animals that used to live in that forest immediately showed up—some of them dressed in only bones and some were still wearing rotten skin, dashing and attacking Shizuo in his new wolf form. It was not an easy job to summon dead animal, more so if it was in great numbers since they had no lingering attachment to this world. It took time and drained a lot of his energy, and since he was badly wounded earlier it became even more taxing. But Izaya was not one to give up on a difficult task, especially if he considered it important enough and worth dealing. He watched the battle unfolded with a satisfied grin and a glint of dark amazement in his completely-back-to-normal eyes since even with the numbers, it was still not enough to hold the beast down though it successfully reduced a bit of its speed boost. Its eyes were still locked with Izaya’s as it shoved a group of skeletons with so much force, and he would be lying if he said that level of concentration and twisted devotion didn’t give him shiver—no, not from fear, but from a mix of expectation and childish excitement. _This is so much fun_ ; the sincerity behind that thought came out instantly, more like a reflex than a product of contemplation.

The first droplets of rain started to fall as he went deeper into the mountain, followed not-so-closely by the beast that undeniably desired to break every bone in his body. He would occasionally look behind his back to throw sugar-coated insults and milk-flavored sarcasm to drive out more anger from the already furious beast. Anger, Izaya thought, was one of the factors that messed up the ability to think clearly, he just hoped this rule could be applied to _animal_ too. On his mind, he was writing down possibilities onto his imaginary blueprint, matching the design with the little information he got; the ones he deemed impossible and far-fetched would be thrown away immediately. Izaya knew from getting into Electra—his familiar’s mind that there was a big river on the other side of that mountain, so maybe he should include that information into his plan. He huffed a laugh; making a perfect plan while getting chased could be his new specialty. He was technically _enjoying_ it anyway, to the point he lost track of time, and by the time he reached the other side, the rain was pouring even heavier. It was a rather tough hurdle to deal with, especially when you had to climb down a cliff with 75° slope. The rocks and roots were wet from the rain, so it was a bit difficult to grasp, but with his nails growing out, he still could do just fine. Also, it seemed he was not the only one having a tough time there. Through the curtain of raindrops, he saw the beast were assaulted by a group of reanimated dead monkeys; they made it slip from time to time but not enough to make it fall since the beast had those long claws to depend on. It kept jumping sideways to where Izaya was while occasionally pulling (and crushing when he was at it) the annoying monkeys off of its head and back. “Babysitting monkeys while acting like one sure is an entertaining hobby for the likes of you, I see,” Izaya purred the last two words to produce fake innocence into his mockery as he, too, kept crawling sidewise to give more distance between them. A mix of growl and bark was given to him as the beast’s best respond at the moment and Izaya huffed out a chuckle at its futile attempt at making him shut up.

On his right side there were more big rocks protruded from the cliff wall, he noted, as well as plants and one big tree with solid-looking roots that unnaturally sprouting from one of the jutted-out rocks, and he could already see the big river from where he was hanging—which meant he was at a good distance to execute his plan. It seemed the heavy rain affected its current, making it heavier as it headed toward the north. _That could be both good and bad_ , he smiled bitterly as he looked down to the dark shade of the water below, knowing one small miscalculation could put him in an _uncomfortable_ situation. Izaya knew this was kind of a gamble, but it had the highest chance of victory, so he just had to go for it. Not to mention, flirting with danger seemed to be very appealing right at the moment. Stopping his crawling, he pulled his non-dominant hand to his side and just let more of his body weight to be supported only by his dominant one. The beast was still at a safe distance, so he immediately formed a bowl outline from his free hand and let silver strings flowed to the center of his palm, creating another sphere that seemed to float just above his skin. This time, though, silver was not the only color filling up the inside of that sphere. There were green threads crawling from the rocks he touched to his dominant hand, shoulders and then went directly to the silver sphere, taking place in the very center. He threw a glance at the beast that was trying to regain its balance from a little slip; the corner of his lips curled upward by itself into a more thoughtful expression rather than challenging with his eyebrows pointed down as he was considering his choices regarding of what would be good to be used as a push to ignite the right flames.

“My, look at you now,” he purred, jolting his shoulder into a casual shrug, “do you think with a form like this, you still consider yourself a human? What an absolute joke!” The tone rose with an impression of mania at the word ‘joke’, making the sphere on his palm have a jolt of brightness as if Izaya’s mood affected it directly. The glower the beast gave was a different kind of danger this time; its eyes darkened as the heavy growl escaped from the back of its throat and went out through gritted teeth. Its movements became faster and more stable as soon as it decided to ignore the monkeys, letting their bites and claws sunk into its skin without even showing any hint of pain. The beast’s focus was solely on Izaya as it wormed its way closer to where the necromancer was. “Have your parents never told you how much of a disappointment you are?” Izaya continued as more and more of silver and green accumulated in the sphere that had lots of small waves appearing on its surface; it looked so much like a bubble that almost burst. “Oh, right! How could I forgot! You’re all alone now, aren’t you?” The beast roared loudly, releasing the piled-up frustration-coated anger as it started jumping sideways again instead of crawling. It sparked goose bumps on his skin, and his heart rate increased from both panic and excitement, but he was grinning; Izaya didn’t even realize it himself, it was like an automatic reaction to the stimulus just by seeing the glory of anger he ignited from the beast. _It is perfect_. Only by that sound of wrath itself, Izaya was sure, Shizuo had woken up half of the forest inhabitants. Noises of fear came to his ears from the other side of the mountain, it strangely added glee to the unusual joy he was feeling right at the moment. “Your mother passed away because of boring illness, but your father,” Izaya’s grin was sharp, sharp and cruel and _unforgiving_ ; he knew a landmine as soon as he saw pain reflected in the beast’s eyes for a brief moment, and he knew immediately that it was a total _victory_ as he delivered the final blow, “Your father, you _killed_ him, didn’t you?” There was no longer growl or roar this time; using a powerful kick of his hind legs and the strong pull of its right arm, the beast launched itself toward Izaya. Still with a grin on his face, the necromancer immediately shoved the completed, yet unstable sphere at the surface of the cliff wall.

An explosion sent them both flying, but thanks to his previous position, Izaya didn’t get thrown off the cliff wall completely. His body still grazed the protruding rocks, and he kept trying to grip on something, be it rocks or plants, though the thing that broke his fall in the end was the tree that he spotted earlier. With both hands, he pulled the weight of his body to the sturdy-looking root of said tree. Intense pain flared up on his non-dominant arm that was previously used to deliver the explosion; Izaya clicked his tongue at the ache he felt and the condition of his arm which had severe burns from the tips of his fingers to the elbow. On the other hand, Shizuo, who was in a jumping state earlier was blown away, down to the dark river. At the last minute, Izaya had the chance to see the beast sunk into the depth of that black water with some rocks that were blown off of the cliff at the previous explosion, and with how strong the stream was, Shizuo probably ended up somewhere in the north part of the forest. He wouldn’t have to worry about having difficulties in finding the beast again, though. Because, he already sent some of his energy—the silver strings—to glue to Shizuo’s body using the force of the explosion. They could only be broken off if the other person used their sorcery—like Shizuo did earlier when he had that second transformation, but Izaya doubted the beast could pull it off something like that again. If Shizuo’s anger was the one feeding the philosopher’s stone, then a distraction when he was at the peak of his anger would break Shizuo’s concentration as well as the effect of the philosopher’s stone. Actually, he could have asked Celty for help since the beginning, but a good coordination needed _discussion_. It took more time, and also, _there’s this and that which she’s better off not knowing_ —Izaya mused as he waited for his arm to completely heal. Besides, he wouldn’t want to be pestered 24/7 by Shinra because he put his beloved in danger. Even the mental image of that made him lose his motivation.

_For now, I just have to find him again._

 

///

 

Finding Shizuo took another hour of exploring the north side. But it wasn’t so hard, saved for the cold and the bugs. He spotted the mop of messy blond hair leaning on a trunk under the drizzle. He had his human form back and kept his eyes shut; all the exhaustion seemed to crush him in one go and forced his muscles to sleep with overwhelming soreness to the point that he only greeted with “what do you fucking want with me?” with as much harshness as before but lacking the threat it used to carry when Izaya decided to show himself in front of him. The necromancer, almost as battered and exhausted as the werewolf was, brought a devious smile back as he studied Shizuo’s condition with an unreadable expression. Shizuo seemed to try to ignore his presence though, keeping his eyes shut still. But Izaya knew he was warier than before—who wouldn’t, with their enemy standing in front of them while they were in a vulnerable state. Only when Izaya opened his mouth to say “my, are you in pain~?” in a childish sing-song voice that Shizuo shot his eyes open; Izaya was a bit surprised that it was not anger that reflected from those mocha brown orbs, it was something else. It was something akin to recognition—a jolt of remembrance which gave Izaya a weird feeling like he was missing something. It was kind of uncomfortable, but since he refused to be seen as _weak_ and _confused_ , especially by his enemy, Izaya shoved that feeling aside. “Alright, let’s not beat around the bush. The dawn is coming nearer and I don’t fancy spending all night in a forest, so let me get straight to the point.” He decided to check his nails in the middle of the sentence to give off the vibe of being all casual.

Shizuo looked lost, having a dumbfounded look on his face which made Izaya want to snort out loud. “I have a proposal for you,” he said in finality, putting his hand on his waist as he stared confidently at Shizuo who looked like someone who just heard a bad joke. “Do you think I’m gonna be fucking obedient and hear you out after the shitty things you did?!” Shizuo spat those words with venom, glaring like he wished it would somehow make Izaya die a painful death. The necromancer burst into chuckles before giving Shizuo his condescending look. “Now, don’t take it too personal. I was merely ordered to weaken you and take you alive to the order,” he tilted his head to the side and continued, ignoring Shizuo’s ‘tsk’ at the mention of the Order of Merlin, “Which is strongly related to my proposal I’ve mentioned before. First, do you know what will happen to you if I leave you to them?” Receiving only a glare in return, Izaya went back to explaining. “You will be locked up in a dungeon and have various experiments to be tested on you since the order is very much obsessed with the infamous philosopher’s stone~! Maybe they even go as far as to try to kill you to see if you’re really immortal or not, or if the one in your body is the real philosopher’s stone or not. If it’s the real thing, maybe they would have you undergo a surgery to take the stone out! Ah, so scary~!” Izaya spread his arms open and showed his twisted glee in childish mannerism, while Shizuo seemed to be wanting to tear the necromancer apart so much for enjoying the cruel imagination of the situation Shizuo might or might not experience though he kind of believed some of the necromancer’s words. Izaya seemed to catch this from Shizuo’s wavering glare, that was why he dropped the offer again, “But if you accept my proposal, your safety will be guaranteed. Okay, that was the first benefit. I have three in total, you know. The second is you will have free lodging and free meals for as long as the contract exists.”

“It sounds shady as hell to me,” Shizuo furrowed his eyebrows; suspicion was plastered all over his face. Hearing that, Izaya chuckled in amusement. “How rude, and here I am trying to make a fair offer to you. All you have to do is… be my guard dog.” The look on Shizuo’s face was hilarious as soon as Izaya told him the most important part; eyes widened in shock as if he was a kid who just found out that his pudding got stolen. “HUH?! The fuck you’re saying?!” Shizuo snapped as angry veins popped up on his forehead. Izaya had both of his hands held his mouth and stomach, trying to hold in his laughter that came from seeing the blond’s comical expression. “Okay, that was so funny!” He managed to say between his laughter and received a shout “Die!” in response. Izaya’s shoulders were still shaking from the short giggles when he said, “I wasn’t even trying to kill you. It was only to _weaken_ you, Shizuo. Please, do try to remember what people said, though it’s understandable that you would have a hard time with how small your brain is—“

“Fuck! Come here so I can bash your skull in!” Shizuo tried to move but to no avail; as soon as he sat up, his body fell back to the tree trunk almost immediately. Izaya snickered at that, giving a hint of purr as he calmly said, “You shouldn’t move around too much with that condition. At least try to hear me out until the end, will you? I believe I haven’t told you the third benefit of accepting my offer,” Izaya expected any kind of retort, but Shizuo just went to silently glare at him again; he probably realized there was not much he could do with his body being like that. A bit disappointed, Izaya continued with a smirk on his face, “Your _little brother_ , I could help you to meet him.” Shizuo immediately widened his eyes; his jaw fell slack and Izaya could see both pain and a little hope in those mocha brown orbs. “Kasuka Heiwajima is the only family you have left, right? You wouldn’t have a chance to see him ever again if you’re locked up.” Izaya stated in a serious tone this time, and Shizuo seemed to lose his ability to speak as his whole body tensed at the mention of his little brother’s name; his shoulders hunched a bit as he balled his hands into fists. Izaya let the silence fell over them for a moment before he walked closer to where Shizuo froze in his sitting position and reached out a hand over to the tired werewolf whose harsh glare melted by a ray of hope.

“So… will you accept my offer?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. *: in Hebrew, it means “truth”. It is said that the golem could then be deactivated by removing the (א), thus the inscription changed from “truth” to “death”.  
> 2\. I will explain how Izaya made that explosion in later chapter.  
> 


End file.
